


I'd Throw Myself Down on My Knees at Your Hands

by Enjollrass



Category: Les Miserables, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: A little angst, Christmas, College, F/F, F/M, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gay, Like, M/M, Modern AU, Mostly Fluff, Multi, Winter, a gross amount of fluff probably, but also angst, dont worry, lots of fluff, note passing, there will be much angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:23:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8784796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enjollrass/pseuds/Enjollrass
Summary: Grantaire and Enjolras, college students and neighbors, begin slipping notes under each others doors. Is it possible to fall in love at first "Hey can you turn your music down?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, this is a new thing that i've wanted to do for a long time. I will try to update monthly. In the end, I want it to be around like ~20-50 thousand words. We will see tho.

 

CHAPTER 1: _LA NOTE SOUS LA PORTE_

 

_November 23rd_

 

53C -

I apologize for the inconvenience but I’m wondering if it is possible for you to turn your music down past 11pm -- I’m a student and it can get distracting while trying to study.

Regards,

-your neighbor in 52C

 

_November 23rd_

 

what’s the matter my dude? don’t like techno remixes of bach?

-R

 

-o-

 

_November 26th_

 

hey you left your door open this morning so I closed it for you. Don’t worry, I only stole a couple things.

-R

 

_November 26th_

 

R,

Thank you - I had an exam this morning and accidentally slept in. Needless to say I was running late and forget to close it.

-Enjolras

 

-o-

_December 2nd_

 

R,

I’m having some friends over from a local organization tonight and I just wanted to warn you that it might get a little noisy. Sorry for the inconvenience.

-Enjolras

-o-

 

_December 7th_

!!! URGENT !!!

are u gonna be home tomorrow from 9-12? I have a REALLY important package being delivered that i’d have to sign for but I have an art gallery opening I have to be at all day. If you’re free would you be able to sign for it?

-R

 

_December 7th_

 

R,

Yes, I’ll be home studying all day. You can pick it up from me whenever is convenient for you.

-Enjolras

 

-o-

 

     Grantaire had never met his neighbor; In fact, he had never even _seen_ his neighbor. Based on the little information that Grantaire knew about him (student, sometimes forgetful, is part of a local organization, plays NPR podcasts really loud), he had come up with an image of what he thought his neighbor probably looked like. He had settled on the fact this was a state-of-the-art _snob_ ; all of Enjolras’s letters were written on custom stationery and his handwriting was borderline art itself. Especially if one juxtaposed Enjolras’s letters against Grantaire’s - scribbled on torn out notebook paper, post-it notes, once even on an old scrap of canvas - a person would come to the conclusion that these people come from different worlds.

     Maybe it was because Grantaire imagined everyone to be better looking than himself, or maybe it was because of how educated Enjolras sounded, but he imagined Enjolras to be somewhat attractive. Despite this, he had convinced himself that this was someone Grantaire did not necessarily want to align himself with; he seemed to be too concerned with image rather than content. Yet, there was still some part of him that got excited every time he saw a letter had been slipped under his door.

     He had asked Enjolras to sign for his package out of a complete state of desperation; tasks of this nature usually fell to Eponine, but she was busy. So, not wanting to have to make an extra trip to the post office, he asked the only other convenient person he could think of.

     Grantaire made the short three step journey from his apartment to the front of his neighbor's door, the one with ‘52C’ painted on it in black, peeling letters. He was not nervous per se, but there was a hint of curiosity that he could feel in his stomach as to what this person actually looked like.

     Warm, yellow light filled the hallway as Enjolras answered him.

“Hi-oly shit.” Grantaire stammered.

     Enjolras looked stunned and confused.

“Uh... R?”

“I mean, yeah, yes. Hi... Enjolras? Am I pronouncing that right?” Grantaire put out his hand.

     Enjolras, shifting the package from his right hand to his left, shook Grantaire's.

“Yes, you are...” Enjolras looked down at the sending name on the brown paper box. “...Grantaire.”

     His name rolled off Enjolras’s tongue with such grace and comfort, as if he had been saying it his whole life; this was the first time Grantaire had felt insecure about his name, like it was too dirty of a word for such a beautiful person to have to say. Grantaire was unmoving under the eyes of the Greek god that was standing before him.

“Um… Here’s your package.” Enjolras said, politely holding out the box.

“Yes, thank you for uh, for signing for me.” Grantaire cleared his throat. “It’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“Yeah, you too Grantaire.”

     The low buzzing of the dull, dying overhead light highlighted the small moment of silence where Grantaire couldn’t think of anything to say. He was usually very witty and quick on his feet, but currently, he could do nothing more than take in the beauty of the man before him. Not only did Enjolras dramatically go beyond the level of attractiveness Grantaire had imagined him to be at, he was almost completely sure he had never seen a more perfect person in his entire twenty two years of being alive.

“Grantaire?”

“What?” Grantaire asked, snapping back to reality.

“I asked if there was anything else you needed?” Enjolras stated.

“Uh…. No… No I’m good. Thank you again for... this.” Grantaire lifted the package as indication and took a step in the direction of his apartment.

“Alright then, goodnight Grantaire.” Enjolras closed his door.

     Grantaire was alone again in the dark hallway. With wide eyes, he leaned his back against the wall for support, took a breath, and tried to contemplate the short conversation he just had. What evil thing had Grantaire done in his life to be forced to live next to such a beautiful creature, yet know that there was never any way for this god to take interest in a person such as himself?

     Grantaire fell asleep pondering this question.

 

-o-

 

     The next time he saw Enjolras was three days later downstairs by the mail slots. Grantaire had been shuffling through envelopes when Enjolras appeared.

    He tried his best to be laid back and relaxed:

“Oh hey, Apollo.” Grantaire immediately regretted the nickname the second he saw Enjolras’s confused face.

“My name is actually Enjolras.” Enjolras opened his mail compartment.

     Grantaire stared for a second.

“What, no, yeah I know that…” Grantaire’s words were falling over each other in a hurry to explain.

“I called you Apollo because, of uh, of your... big golden hair…  and stuff.”

     Enjolras still looked confused.

“I was making a reference, to the uh, the god of the sun?” Grantaire quickly babbled.

“Oh.” Enjolras now seemed embarrassed. At this point though, Enjolras had completed getting his mail and had taken a step back. “Okay. See you later.”  

     Enjolras’s back was already to Grantaire when he looked up.

“Well this is damn terrific,” Grantaire muttered to himself, “looks like now I can never leave the house ever again.”

 

-o-

 

     Grantaire spent his time either at school or doing freelance art jobs, so, most of the time, he could push Enjolras out of his mind.  But when he was at home, he found that he was physically unable to concentrate on anything else besides him.

     The fire escapes on Grantaire’s building were designed so that two adjacent apartments shared a platform. So, in some terrifying miracle, as Grantaire thinks of it, both Grantaire and Enjolras shared a fire escape.

    Grantaire was currently sitting on this shared fire escape, legs dangling off the edge, chin resting on the ledge of the railing, a cigarette dangling in his right hand. Part of him wanted Enjolras to come out due to some strange coincidence, to sit down next to him, to mention how the night sky made him want to get out of the city and go for a drive, to tell him things about himself that no one else knew. But, of course, these things did not happen. In fact Grantaire could see that Enjolras’s lights were out, so either Enjolras was already asleep - doubtful, it was only 9:42 - or he was out.

     Grantaire sighed and took a drag from his cigarette.

 

-o-

     The third time he saw Enjolras was December 17th, the last day of classes. Grantaire had decided to head to campus earlier than he usually did, partially because he hadn’t slept at all the night before and wanted to go for a walk, and partially because it had just started snowing and he wanted to see it before it melted.

     When he stepped out into the hallway, he was surprised and horrified to see Enjolras turning to close his door at the same time Grantaire was. He debated what to do. Could he go back inside and pretend he was coming home instead of going out?  No that wouldn’t work, Enjolras had seen him close the door just now. Should he fake a phone call so that there would be no awkward silence while walking? No that wouldn’t work, he always tends to sound really fake on fake phone calls. Should he stand for a second and pretend to be looking for something in his bag so that they wouldn’t have to walk together? Yes. This would work. He could pretend to look for something and then either take the stairs or elevator. Depending on which one Enjolras takes, he would take the opposite. But should he say something first? Should he say hi? Would that be weird? Would that be too forward? No of course it wouldn’t. This was his neighbor and that is perfectly fine.

     Grantaire mustered up all the courage he could manage.

“Don’t forget to lock your door, Apollo.” Grantaire teased.

     Enjolras looked over and smiled at Grantaire.

“Hey, good morning, Grantaire. How’re you?” Enjolras then proceeded to start walking down the hallway toward the elevator. Grantaire, forgetting to fake check his bag for the non-existent item he had planned to look for, had no choice but to follow after him to answer the question.  

“I’m fine, just heading to campus early today to get a head start.” He said while trying to catch up with Enjolras but also staying a step behind him in case Enjolras wanted to end the conversation.

Enjolras stopped in front of the elevator and pushed in the _down_ button on the wall.

“What’re you studying?”

     Grantaire stopped next to him. He noticed how much taller Enjolras was compared to him.

“I’m an art major with a focus on traditional painting.” He said. “I’m also minoring in ballet. And poetry.” he added

“A major with a double minor?” That’s really impressive.” Enjolras did in fact, sound impressed.

      The elevator chimed and the doors opened. They stepped on and Grantaire pressed the button for the ground level.

“It would be more impressive if I could figure out how to make a living with these degrees after I graduate.” Grantaire joked sarcastically.

     This was, in Grantaire’s mind, a joke. Kind of a laughing-at-his-own-misery type of relatable content. Yet, Enjolras did not laugh. Instead, he turned toward Grantaire and said in a very serious and saddened tone:

“I am so sorry that our society has let you down and does not value fine arts as much as it should.”

     This took Grantaire off guard. If he was being honest he was a little creeped out even.

“Uh... thanks.” He cleared his throat, “You know…. like, I knew it was going to hard to find a job going into this whole _art_ thing,” he used finger quotes around the word “art.” “and I considered studying something more practical, but I could never imagine myself actually going through the stress and commitment of higher learning for something dumb like the law or politics or whatever.”

     The elevator door chimed open, Enjolras extended his arm forward to let Grantaire off first.

“What about you? What’re you studying?” Grantaire asked as they walked across the lobby to the door.

     Enjolras shrugged, “Something dumb like the law or politics or whatever.”

Grantaire choked, more amused than embarrassed, “Oh you’ve _got_ to be _kidding_ me.”

“No.” Enjolras said seriously at first, but then couldn’t help but slightly smile at the sight of Grantaire's amused reaction.

“No, like dude, that’s-” Grantaire stopped to catch his breath as well as open the door for Enjolras, “-that’s.. that’s cool for you.”

     He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Enjolras. Enjolras took one, Grantaire lit his own and then reached over to light Enjolras’s for him.

     The sun was nowhere to be seen as they walked toward the metro station. Grey clouds covered the sky and casted a cool grey tint across the early morning city. Snow was coming down slowly, softly; creating a low glowing appearance as light was reflected.

     The city was unusually quiet, as if everyone had collectively decided to stay home, as if the city itself was sleeping. The only thing that was audible was the soft crunch of the thin layer of snow as they walked.

     Enjolras began to notice that he might have underdressed as a cold wind bit at the back of his neck. He pulled his sweatshirt closer around his shoulders.

“Why?” Grantaire asked suddenly.

“Why what?” Enjolras retorted.

“Why politics?” He shrugged slightly and tilted his head to the left, looking over to him for an answer.

“Well, not just politics, I’m a poli-sci major with a focus on political theory.” Enjolras took a second before he went on, “It’s like… Okay listen, I just want to change the way the government screws over their weakest and most vulnerable. I’m tired of protesting for the marginalized and disenfranchised. Like, okay, for example, I’m _completely_ for separation of church and state, it’s an amazing concept in theory, like, fuck religion, but here in France, a Muslim person can’t even wear a hajib into a public school or government building! Like, fuck America, their political scene is a mess, but this kind of thing does _not_ happen there. It would totally against every one of their laws to prevent a person from wearing a religious or cultural item into a public or government building. I just think that it’s not right to force a child or person to do that.”

     Enjolras took a drag of his cigarette.

“Hm.” Grantaire surmised. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Exactl-”

“But why do you care?”

Enjolras was taken aback. “....What?”

“Why do you care?  It’s not your culture, not your religion. Why does it matter to you?” Grantaire challenged.

“I mean that was just an examp-”

“Yeah but you brought it up first so obviously it’s important to you.” Grantaire interrupted. “Why does it matter to you?”

     Enjolras was stunned silent. No one had ever asked him that question. _Why do you care?_ Was he joking? Usually, people automatically acknowledge the importance of this topic, one way or another by either agreeing with him or challenging his opinion. People are so quick to put in their personal two cents, but rarely does a person question the importance of a topic as a whole.

“Why do I care?” Enjolras asserted, “Why _wouldn’t_ I care? If we as a society do not approve of something it is our _right_ to chan- no, it is our _duty_ to change it.”

“That’s an interesting concept.” Grantaire acknowledged. “But do you really think that a single person, think that _you_ have the ability to completely change the way that France works?”

“Yes.” Enjolras stated without hesitation.

     He met Grantaire's eyes.

     They stood there for more than what was the usual amount of time someone should stand there staring into another person’s eyes. Almost like a competition to see who would break contact first. In the end, Grantaire was the one who looked down. It was hard to look at Enjolras out of the corner of his eye let alone staring straight into his soul. Enjolras was the sun and Grantaire was but a flawed human, incapable of looking at such a powerful force of energy and confidence. His heart beat fast, as if he was afraid. Because after all, what is love, but the fear of what we find beautiful?

 

     They were about to walk into the metro station. Grantaire flicked his cigarette butt to the side of the road. Enjolras’s eyes went wide.

“Are you serious?” Enjolras blurted.

“What?”

“There is literally a trash can _right_ there.”

“Relax, Apollo.” But nonetheless, Grantaire bent down, picked it up, and discarded it in the trash.

     The metro came a couple minutes later. The theory Grantaire was forming in his mind that he and Enjolras were the last two people left on earth was then proved false when he spotted a few other train-goers milling around the station and on the metro. They sat in mostly silence. Enjolras, glad to be out of the snow and light wind, rubbed his hands together for warmth. They got off on the 3rd stop after the couple minute ride. Again, there were very few people on campus. It was calm, the snow softly falling on top of itself, creating a blanket across the streets.

 

     Grantaire started to walk in the opposite direction, towards the art buildings. “Alright man, nice talking to you. I gotta-”

“Hey, I don’t know when your classes start but do you have time to come get coffee with me?” Enjolras babbled, without really thinking about it.

“Uh,” he was taken aback, but somewhat relieved that Enjolras still wanted to talk to him. “yeah sure I would love to.”

“Okay.” Enjolras began to walk toward the school grounds.

“Wait you don’t mean school coffee right? Oh, god _please_ don’t tell me you actually drink that stuff.” Grantaire hesitantly asked.

“....Why?” Enjolras speculated.

“Oh my god. That stuff is vile, it’s disgusting! How do you drink that? It’s basically black sludge!”

Enjolras shrugged, “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Honestly I don’t even notice it really.”

     Grantaire looked as if he had suddenly become ill. He dramatically clutched his heart.

“I’ve been shot! You’ve wounded me!” He pretended to faint, forcing Enjolras to reach his arms out to catch him.

Enjolras laughed, “Is it really that big of a dea-”

“I am taking this as a personal offense.” Grantaire stood up again but was suddenly serious. “Food is art! It needs to be created with care and talent. And food includes coffee.”

“It’s really convenient though it’s right next to my morning classes.” Enjolras tried to explain.

“That’s what the government wants you to think!” Grantaire teased. “I cannot believe you’re giving into corporate greed and capitalism!”

“Hey, woah, I wouldn’t go _that_ far”

     Grantaire began walking off campus, across the street. Enjolras stood where he was, too confused to decipher what Grantaire wanted him to do.

Grantaire turned. “Well? Aren’t you coming?”

“Where?” Enjolras called to him.

“To get _real_ coffee.” Grantaire continued walking.

 

-o-

_December 20th_

R,

Hey this may be weird and you can definitely say no I would totally understand but would you be free to possibly pretend to be my boyfriend? It would be just for one night I swear to god. My friends are just really on my back about “not getting myself out there enough” and “always being home studying” and “Come on Enjolras you need to stop living off just coffee and ramen.” In all honesty I have no idea what they mean, i’m perfectly fine on my own right now but they threatened to set me up on a blind date and i _hate_ blind dates. But if I was to show up to this party one of my friends is throwing with a guy for even one night I think they would lay off.

 

Again, you can absolutely say no and I would completely understand!!

-Enjolras

 

_December 20th_

yes

-R

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter: @obLwan_  
> Tumblr: hawwkyee.


End file.
